Season Five - Endeavour Morse & Joan Thursday
by CBGB's
Summary: At the end of season 4, Endeavour & Miss Thursday are struggling with what they mean to each other. Miss Thursday is spiraling out of control, sparked by a near miss with death, flight from Oxford, & questionable life choices. Morse is equally struggling, feeling around in the dark, trying to find his way to love & happiness. This is my version of season 5. Season 4 spoiler alert.
1. Chapter 1 - Morse Gets A Call

Morse is throwing on his coat as he runs out of his flat with the words of the doctor still echoing in his head. "You are listed as the contact for Joan Thursday. There was an accident. She is resting and stable." Time goes by in slow motion as Morse enters the hospital, asks for Miss Thursday and is directed to the women's ward. The lights in the hallway pulse and flicker like a kaleidoscope, making it difficult to concentrate. He is brought back to reality by an impossibly tall doctor explaining the situation empathetically. "Her condition is stable. Don't worry, it's nature's way. You can try again in a couple months." Morse tilts his head, processing the information provided in those three short sentences. "She is resting. I've given her something to help her sleep." With a nod of his head, the tall doctor exits.

Morse hears the soft sounds of the heart monitor, and sees the glint of the florescent lights off of the i.v. drip. His breathing is shallow as he processes the details…"Still your mind," his mother used to say, but he was never able to do it.

She was pregnant.

"I love you" comes unbidden to his mind. Immediately his heart stretches and pulls, stops, and begins beating again, urgently. Miss Thursday had said to him "I suppose you don't know until you meet the right one." Morse's thoughts stutter like a smooth, flat stone skipping across the glassy surface of the water. "You mean so much…so much to…to…me."

A crossword puzzle takes form before his eyes.

Eleven down, "Home of the job in the offing," answer, "Tangental".

Six across, "Ends in emotional destruction," answer, "Proposal"

Twelve across, "Stand where outer meets inner," answer, "Coat".

Four across "Loch with a smile," answer "Happiness".

Two across "Court jester, almost," answer "Foolish"

Nine down "Leap and the net will appear," answer, "Risk".

One down "Listing then making it right," answer "Plan".

Morse bends, kisses her head, breathing in the very essence of her. Then, stands, and exits, just as determined as when he arrived. He doesn't notice Tall Doctor's quizzical look. His focus in straight, and clear. He must go back to the station and retrieve his ID. He needs to leave his options open.

Fifteen minutes later, Morse enters the station and the grey, steel, and black ease his mind a bit. He always seems to think more clearly here. No one found his ID, his resignation by proxy. He picks it up, looking into his own eyes from four years ago. Younger. "No," he thinks. "I was never young. Never."

Dvorak's "Venus" runs through his head. The slow, constant rise and fall of the strings always makes him feel like he is turning, a part of the galaxy, a small part of something. Why, then, does he feel like Pluto, with Miss Thursday as the sun?


	2. Wherein Sargent Strange is at Hospi

Sargent Strange has had just about enough. 24 hours on duty, and off to the hospital to take the statement of a young woman who has been raped. "I hate these rape cases," he thinks. "Keep your bloody hands off of women." He's seen enough stoned men hitting women, his father a right bloody example, and a drunken git. "Mum never deserved it," he thinks, "Neither does this girl."

When he reaches the room of the rape victim, he knocks and asks for permission to enter. Her eyes are hollow, and her spirit broken. "I'll catch the bloody are," he thinks. When she finally makes eye contact, she immediately drops her head and bursts into tears. "There, there, now miss. No need for all this. I'm here to help," he says, wishing he could grab the bastard who did this to her and do a bit of "apologizing" of his own, using his fist and a brick wall.

"Would you like a cuppa? I could fetch the nurse," Strange says, because it seems the only thing for it. "No," she answers, in between gulps of air. "Should I come back?" Strange asks. "No," she says. Silence. "Well, then. In your own time."

A few minutes later she begins hesitantly. "I was walking down the high street, just off from work. It felt wrong…I should have trusted my gut, I never go that way, It just seemed so short to go through the park. I, I, thought I was going die." At this she brakes down. Sargent Strange places a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she recoils back against the pillow, then, realizing her response, apologizes, again. "Miss, no need. In your time, in your time."

An hour later Strange is asleep in the chair, head resting against the edge of the window sill.

"Bloody hell," Strange mumbles through a sleepy fog, as a crick in his neck shoots up his neck to his head, causing him to jump up out of the chair. He rights himself, then checks on the girl, relieved to see she has fallen asleep. "Sleeps best thing for it," Strange thinks, exiting the room. As he turns the last corner of the maternity ward, his eyes are caught by a face in a hospital bed. Black eye, fitful sleep. Dark hair. "Bloody, bloody hell. Miss Thursday," he says, knowing that he will have to report this to DI Thursday. So much for returning to his flat.


	3. Wherein Morse Returns to the Hospital

It is early morning by the time Morse leaves the Nick. "Back to hospital to check on Miss Thursday," he thinks, wondering what comes next, what to say. As he enters the hospital, his thoughts reach back in time...to that dreadful night...

She was waiting on the stoop to his flat. They descended the stairs, entered the flat, she turned to face him, he looked into her eyes...

She had a black eye.

A flare of anger replaced the awkwardness he felt by having Miss Thursday in his flat...

...A black eye...made by the git he saw outside her flat, the one who removed his wedding band, unlocked the door and entered like he owned the place.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

"You don't understand." she replied.

"Where is he?"

"Morse, it was my fault. I provoked him."

"Don't say that."

Then she looked at him with her heart in her eyes and said "I've made a mess of everything."

"Go home." He said, knowing she needed a safe haven.

"I can't."

He looked at her, trying to decipher their spoken words. There was only one answer.

"Marry me." he heard himself say. Followed by silence. His heart on his sleeve. Vulnerable. Then he noticed a glimmer of hope on her face...was she going to say "Yes?" He stopped breathing. In that breathless moment he imagined a future for them...but as the silence stretched on, the image became clouded, moving just out of reach, hidden in the twisted branches of the overgrown forest of his heart, trying to untangle itself. Then she said "Morse, I don't want your pity."

Pity. Yes, he was pitiful.

A poem by Yeats came unbidden to his mind:

A pity beyond all telling

Is hid in the heart of love:

The folk who are buying and selling,

The clouds on their journey above,

The cold, wet winds ever blowing,

And the shadowy hazel grove

Where mouse-grey waters are flowing

Threaten the head that I love

Why didn't he follow her that night?

"Where are you going," he had asked her.

"To collect my things," she answered.

"You're not going back to him."

She shrugged and he knew the answer.

Morse is shocked backed to reality by an announcement over the hospital public address system. "Doctor Weiser, report to Fosteck Ward." He lifts his head and realizes he's standing outside Miss Thursday's room. Tall Doctor approaches him and says, with concern in his voice, "She is stable and improving." Morse nods, enters her room and drags a chair up to the bed. Exhausted, he sits and leans back against the bed, closing his eyes.

It is now 1:00 am.

The clock ticks out of time with the heart monitor, but both are steady.


	4. Wherein Fred & Win's Eyes are Opened

"Who am I? I'm her father!" Shouts Fred Thursday, while Winifred looks on...

They have just arrived at hospital, where Joan is a patient.

"She is stable and well. I'm not able to release information to you, but I will escort you to the room," says Tall Doctor, greeting them at the entrance to the women's ward, annoyingly calm and placating. Gesturing toward the hallway he says "This way, Sir, Madam."

As Win and Fred open the door to Joan's room they come full stop and look at the sight before them.

Morse's head is resting on Joan's stomach, his arms wrapped around her waist. Joan's hands are woven in his hair, and they are connected so that the beginning of one and the end of the other cannot be determined. There is a peacefulness to their intimacy, as if all is right in the world. Win slides her hand into Fred's, in that way only couples whose souls are connected can do.

Then they look at each other, knowing this is Morse and Joan's time. They leave together, safe in the knowledge that Morse is with her.


	5. Awake

Joan Thursday's eyes fly open. Where am I? In hospital? Why?

She realizes she is, indeed, in bed, in hospital, wrapped in a warm embrace...What's happening? Her mind tries to focus on her location...she looks to the bottom of the bed and sees Morse, his arms around her waist, his head resting on her stomach, and her fingers threaded through his hair...

Then she remembers.

She is pregnant. Correction, she was pregnant...

The gaps in her memory fill in faster than mind can process, and fear ripples through every cell in her body. The trauma coming to life, as if it is happening right now, as if she's the star in a technicolor movie...The scene begins back in her flat...

"You have two weeks to get out." Ray says, "Sooner, preferably."

"Ray, I'm pregnant," she responds.

The living room falls into flat, still silence. "I told you I don't want more children."

"I don't want a child, either, but it doesn't make me less pregnant. You said you don't love your wife. You told me you were going to leave her."

Unnerving silence again. Joan looks into his eyes, which have become dark, small, a very threatening.

"What?" She asks.

"I'll make arrangements."

"Arrangements?"

"Yes, you have two weeks to get out and get rid of the problem. Bloody hell, you're a daughter of a Detective Inspector." His anger grows like steam in a pressure cooker, hissing and whistling, the telltale clanking of the jigger...

Joan stands tall and states with more confidence than she feels, "You don't make decisions for me."

"I do." Ray says, jabbing each word like a dagger into her flesh. "I decide. I own the flat. I own the furniture. I own you."

"No."

"No? No? Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" Ray screams, then raises his hand to her, cutting through the shadows and striking the side of her head. Her brain is displaced for a moment, then returns to its rightful place. Her arms rise in a defensive gesture as her head spins from the strike, but Ray reads it as an attack. He towers over her, moves into her space and she pushes him away.

The front door to the flat is open and Ray keeps moving forward, his hands jabbing at her shoulders, pushing her toward the stairs to the lobby. She keeps trying to block him, but he grabs her hair and yanks it.. then he lets go at the precise moment she pushes against his chest...

...as if in slow motion, the Earth opens up and she falls into a deep and endless pit...her body free falling...

The movie in her mind ends and fades to black.

The heart monitor brings her back into the hospital room...

Her fingers slide gently through Morse's hair, calming her mind.

"I love him." She thinks, but...he deserves more...

She closes her eyes against the fact that she is no good for him... and in response, Morse's arms adjust and hold her closer. She eases into the embrace, knowing that he should not love her, but hoping that he does, anyway.


	6. Wake Up

Morse lifts his head, and his face flushes crimson as he untangles his body from Miss Thursday's. "How did that happen?" He wonders.

Behind him the door opens.

"Excuse me, DC Morse," says a nurse, "There is a call for you. He says it's urgent."

"Right," He replies, then attempts to stand, but his legs refuse to respond. He pushes himself out of the chair, stretches his legs and arms, then arches his back. He follows the nurse down the hall, squinting against the unrelenting florescent lights...

He recalls the feeling of his arms around Miss Thursday's waist... Then remembers how she refused his proposal. A poem by Thomas Hardy comes to mind:

I said to Love,

"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,

No faery darts, no cherub air,

Nor swan, nor dove

Are thine; but features pitiless,

And iron daggers of distress,"

I said to Love.

"DC Morse," he says into the receiver.

"Hello, Matey. Check in on room 11, will you? Rape victim. Looking like another at Cowley," says the familiar accent of Sargent Strange. "Maybe she remembers something. Worth a try. Go lightly. She was right down last night. Let's get it figured out, straight away."

"Yes. Right. How did you know I was here?" Morse lowers his head, trying to work out the puzzle.

"You called the nick, last night, didn't you. Thursday said you were there making inquiries about the vic. Remember?" Strange answers, wondering if Morse had long night of drinking...

"Mmm. Right. What was the room again?" Morse asks, confusion in his voice.

"Eleven. Later, then." Strange answers, wondering if everything is alright with Morse, and ending the call.

Morse walks up to room 11, and notices that the room sign has lost a nail causing it to hang vertically toward the floor. He tries to right it, but it slides back. He knocks, then pushes the door open. There lies the rape victim. His gut clenches and he freezes, because lying on the bed before him is the rape victim, Monica Hicks.


	7. The Victim

"Monica. My God."

Monica turns her head toward the spoken words.

"Who is talking," she wonders.

"Morse, here. What happened?"

Staring out the window she hears a woman say…"Took the shortcut through the park just off the high street. He was waiting, then walking alongside."

"Is that me," she thinks. "Where are the words coming from? They sound as if they're escaping through the vacuum of space." Her thoughts continue… "Am I saying this out loud, or to myself?"

"We think there is another victim at Cowley College. Are you able to continue?" Morse says to someone, maybe me, with that lost boy fear and righteous anger pressing upward toward the surface of his words.

"Fedora. Long tan mack. Empty blue eyes. Six feet, maybe, very fair, balding, blond. He said "Crossroad - Choose or I continue." That has to be someone else, Monica thinks. It doesn't sound like me at all.

"Were those his exact words?" Morse says to the victim. Her?

"Yes," is the answer.

"I will find him." Morse says to the woman, his face wrought with anger. At that he stands and walks out. As the door closes behind him and she hears a soft pendulum like scraping on the door. Is that the room number plate?


	8. Cowley Victim

Morse approaches the Cowley crime scene just as DeBryn is finishing his exam. "Wouldn't look. Forced relations, strangled with a Lonsdale scarf," he says as he gently covers the corpse. "Move her carefully, boys. She has been through enough already."

"Do we know who she is?" Morse asks, taking in the scene.

"Not as yet, but perhaps there will be more information after you review the evidence." DeBryn replies.

"Has anyone looked through her purse, pockets?"

"No purse, nothing in the pockets."

Sargent Strange approaches "Blimey, I hate rapists. Saw our first vic, nearly broke my heart."

"Yes," replies Morse, giving nothing of his previous relationship with Monica away. "She gave a description - male, approximately six feet tall, blond, balding, fedora, long tan mack…"

DI Thursday arrives, interrupting their discussion. "Do we know the name?

"No, but we do know the vic at the hospital. A...Monica Hicks." Strange reads from his notebook.

Thursday looks at Morse, who looks down at the ground. "Nurse Hicks?" Thursday asks Strange.

"Yes, the hospital said she is employed there." A look of curiosity forms on Strange's face. What do Morse and Thursday know about this girl?

"Old neighbor of Morse." Thursday offers as an answer to Strange's quizzical look.

Morse walks to the bench situated in the quad. He should go to the hospital, see Miss Thursday and Monica, he thinks. From the corner of his eye he sees a crossword puzzle, cut out of the paper. No, that's not it. This puzzle has been typed. Maybe an exercise for a student.

Four down - "True Direction" - seven letters - Answer - Compass

Six across - "Walking a thin line" - nine letters - Answer - Tightrope

Five down - "Hard Rock Divided" - seven letters - Answer - Between

One across - "Clap heavy destination" - nine letters - ?

Two down - Sledge Man/Woman - ?

Three down -"The Eve of" - eleven letters - ?

Morse, sighs. Probably nothing important, he thinks, but he will complete it, just in case. Those two last clues allude him.

"Well, nothing more for it," says Thursday. "Go home all of you. Get some rest. We are in for a long hall. Strange, go to the hospital and stay with Miss Hicks, and assign a uniform to take over in the morning." Thursday waves them forward.

As the men leave, Thursday pulls Morse aside. "Miss Hicks. How is she?

"Awful. Thought I'd go to see her."

"Strange will be there, as well as me and the missus. We are going to collect our Joan. Did you know she was there?

"Yes," Morse states with a cringe, knowing that he is leaving out information. "I saw her through the room's window. Stopped in to check on her, but didn't get too far." I am lying to the one man I trust and who is like a father to me, thinks Morse.

"Mrs. Thursday is so relieved. Pulled her right out of her depression. We're going to collect her, now." Thursday turns to leave, then stops and calls to Morse.

"By the way, when you were at hospital, did you hear what happened to Joan? Strange called the nick and said she was there. Mrs. Thursday and I went to see her, and I "requested" information, but they wouldn't budge. Couldn't tell me anything, as she is of an age, and the information confidential. They told us she was well and sleeping, but they wouldn't let us in. Did you hear or see anything during your inquiries?"

Morse froze for a moment. Did he hear something telling in Thursday's voice? Did he know? Did they see him in her room? No, not possible. Thursday said tall doctor wouldn't let them in.

"I believe she fell down the stairs at her flat. Just a fluke." Morse replied, giving just enough information. No need to add the rest.

"Glad she's back, which is such a comfort to Mrs. Thursday," he said. "Now, off to home with you. I need you rested and thinking."

"Yes. Good evening, Sir." Morse says as he heads to his flat. All he really wants to do is see Miss Thursday. Be near her. Keep her safe. Her Father would have to see to that. And he will wait.

Monica is in good hands with Strange.


	9. Should I Stay or Should I Go Now

Joan is sitting on the end of the hospital bed, caught up in her thoughts, trying to hold on to the warmth of Morse and the feel of his hair, which was softer than she thought it would be. If she had ever thought that. Because she hadn't. Except maybe at the bank, when the Cole brothers blew the wall to escape, and she was thrown into Morse. Or, did he shield her?

Morse was gone when she woke up, probably off to work. Probably getting as far away from her as possible. She is a meteor, hurtling through space, on a path of unavoidable destruction. Who would hold onto that rock?

What a mess she has made of her life. Continues to make. Pregnant, like one of the girls at school who needed a man. She should stay away. She should be strong enough to move on. But where? What would she do? No more Rays, but the world is not set up for women to be on their own.

She always considered herself to be strong, nothing to mess with, but that is slipping away. Maybe that is why Mum and Dad are still together after 25 years. No mater what happens, Dad is there for her. Dad makes everyone feel safe. Is that how she feels about Morse? Maybe. Probably. He is always there, steady but giving her room to think and make her own decisions. He is a safety rope that keeps her from going under the water. He is a mess, square, and too polite, but it's this very combination that makes him a rock, solid outside and in. Now, that is a rock to hold on to. Her stomach muscles tighten, and she imagines what his arms would feel like around her everyday as he left for work. "Come home safe," she would say. But she doesn't want the life that her mother has, alone in the house all day, making dinner, cleaning up after everyone, a never changing schedule. I should leave. Now. Right now.


	10. Un Bel Di Vedremo

Morse crosses the street to his apartment thinking of Puccini's "Un Bel Di Vedremo". One good day, we will see. He can hear Madama Butterfly crescendo to fortissimo, as she waits for her love to return, unsure, but not giving up hope. The longing in those last notes is palpable as Madama Butterfly is caught between what might be, and despair.

Morse descends the steps to basement level and enters the flat, unlocking the door, crossing the room in three steps and turning on the light. Fatigue takes over as he collapses into the chair, and forgetting that the springs are shot, lands with an audible thud.

He takes the crossword puzzle out of his pocket, places it on the table, and closes his eyes. He should go to bed, but decides to have a whiskey to unwind.

His mind wanders to Miss Thursday who must be settled in, her parents grateful that their lives are back to normal. On nights like this he wishes for something more, a family, someone waiting when he comes home.

"Still your mind," he thinks and pictures his mother's face. It's amazing how, after all these years, tears threaten to make an appearance. "Time for bed," He says to himself, as he crosses the room in three steps, enters the bedroom and begins to undress. As he loosens his tie and begins to unbutton his shirt, but stops at the sound of someone knocking. "Another rape?" Morse drags himself to the door, expecting Sargent Strange to be waiting.

The door creaks open and Joan Thursday is standing in front of him.


	11. Chapter 11 - Questions

"Miss Thursday?" Morse asks, eyebrows raised, unspoken questions hanging in the air between them. "It's 1:30 am." Joan lifts her head and he notices dried tears on her cheek. "Come in." Morse moves to his left as she enters to the right. His right hand instinctively guides her into the living room, resting gently on her lower back.

"I can't go back home, Morse."

They are standing awkwardly, bodies turned slightly away from each other. Morse's hair is a mess, his tie is off, and his shirt is halfway unbuttoned. Realizing he must look a wreck, he runs his hands through his hair and starts to button his shirt. Joan's hands cup his, in a gesture to be still and listen. Morse blushes slightly and stands still, his breath shallow, as he waits for what comes next. Joan releases his hands and gestures to the chairs, and they sit, facing each other.

"At hospital I was running through all of the possibilities. Do I go home? Resume my life just the way it was? I can't. I'm not the same, and I can't turn back time. How can I live with my parents after Ray. After getting…"

"I know. The doctor assumed…" Morse pauses, not sure of how to phrase it.

"Oh, Morse. I'm so sorry. Did you explain?"

"Explain what?" Morse responds with a quizzical look.

"That it wasn't you?"

"No." It is simple and clear to him. Why isn't it to her?

"Why?" she responds, leaning in closer.

"Because…"

Silence. Eyes searching the other's, waiting, wondering.

"Morse. Why?"

"Why are you here, in the middle of the night?" Morse asks in response.

"I told you, I can't go home."

"Why here?" He asks, insistence in his voice.

Silence. Each wondering what the other is thinking. Morse releases a breath and Joan hesitates, not quite ready for the honesty needed to answer the question. Morse shakes his head, and rubs the back of his neck. He's been here before, in love with Susan who shred his heart to bits. He doesn't have the words to explain. Instead he is silent as his heart stretches, trying to break through its protective bindings.

Joan feels the nonverbal wall he has erected to keep her at a distance. She moves her chair slightly closer to his, looks him in the eye, and says what she has been thinking since she arrived "What is your name?"

Morse looks at her, confused, wondering how and why the conversation has changed.

She gets closer, leaning in, her head next to his, her lips only an inch away from his ear. "What is your name?"

It dawns on Morse what she is asking. "Morse," he answers, finality in his voice, and a shiver down his spine from her breath on his ear.

Joan pulls back to face him straight on, close enough to notice the flecks of navy in his blue eyes. She rests her hands on his and whispers "What is your name?" In the silence of the moment, they unknowingly draw closer to each other. Morse looks into her warm chocolate brown eyes for answers. She reaches out and places her hands lovingly on his face. A smile lights her face, because Morse's eyes are closed and his head is moving gently and slowly, side to side, basking in her nearness and touch. "What is your name?"

He moves toward her, so his lips are hovering over her delicate ear. She holds her breath, wondering if he will respond...

"Endeavour."


	12. Chapter 12 - Answers

Joan Thursday hears Morse whisper "Endeavour." Gently, she replies "Why don't you use it?"

He pauses, leans back, and places his elbows on his knees and his weary face in his hands. "My Mother."

Joan waits, with an unexpected calm descending upon her. Something important is happening right now.

"I was raised a Quaker. Often parents name their children "Faith" or "Prudence." She named me "Endeavour."

Joan looks at Morse with kindness and something that looks like love. "It's perfect. Each moment of your life, you endeavour to be what you believe is right and true."

"I may endeavour, but I fall short more often than not." Morse shakes his head, self disgust etched on his heart and face. He dares to look at Joan, certain to see disappointment reflected on her porcelain cheeks. She stands and Morse follows. He assumes she is leaving, so he readies himself to walk her to the door and out of his life. As he moves toward the door, she catches his hand and turns him around, full stop. Her arms wrap around his neck and she looks directly into his soul. "It is the endeavour that matters, not the result."

Morse, full of something indescribable, slowly, reverently, pulls her to him, arms wrapping around her body, and head in the crook of her neck. He holds on with the intensity of one who is pulled from the water, just before he drowns. Joan responds by melding her body with his. He whispers "Joan." Somehow he knows. They are home.


	13. Chapter 13 - Embrace

Joan is wrapped in his arms, releasing a sigh, as her body relaxes further into his embrace. A memory from childhood floats to the surface of her mind. She was eight years old, and had snuck downstairs on a dare from her brother, Sam. Peaking around the banister she saw her mother and father in the kitchen, embracing as if they were each other's life jacket. Seeing them so connected made her feel safe and secure. Being held by Endeavour like this completes her understanding of that moment thirteen years ago. Sometimes your love for someone is so overwhelming that you hold on with all you are, your souls woven together like a fisherman's sweater. Impenetrable in any storm.

"Joan." Morse whispers as he slides his hand into her hair. Joan turns her head and kisses his cheek leaving a trail of tears.

"Endeavour." She whispers as her hands tangle in his hair. Morse hears Donizetti's "Una Furtiva Lagrima" in his head, feeling like Nemorino when he realizes Adina cares for him. He looks at her face, taking in her porcelain skin, brown eyes flecked with gold, and her expression that looks and feels like love. Deep in his soul he hears the words "I'm lost." He bends, kisses her, and they are one.

It is ended as soon as it started. Morse reluctantly separates himself from her. She feels the cold air of the apartment rush between them, and looks at him with fear of loss.

"Joan, we can't do this. In four hours I have to pick up your father. I respect him. Your mother. You." Morse pauses, drags his hands across his face, and sighs. Joan tries to put on her mask of bravery, while her heart breaks, a little piece at a time, with the ticking of each second. She waits for the let down. He will be kind, she thinks. She will be devastated. Perhaps he cannot forgive her…

"Marry me." Morse says. "Marry me, Joan."


	14. Chapter 14 - Used Goods

Like a fool, Morse lays his heart at her feet, again. He speaks before he thinks. "Marry me. Marry me, Joan."

A car passes on the street above. Suddenly he is aware that the only sound in the room is a faint buzzing from the bulb in the lamp.

Immediately he regrets saying it. She looks so downtrodden, weary, and…

Joan reaches for Morse's hands which are much larger than her own. He turns his palms up and she places hers there, and it feels like slipping her hands into her favorite leather gloves. Home. She lifts his hand and lays it against her cheek, then kisses it. Then she lifts the other to her lips. Morse's heart aches with love, wishing she would speak.

"Endeavour Morse, you deserve more than me. I am used goods."

Morse closes his eyes, shakes his head "no" and replies "It is I who is used and lacking."

Joan responds "No, that is not true." Quiet descends on the room, broken only by the drunken laughter of late night partiers on the street above. Breaking through the atmosphere of the room and the words spoken, Joan asks "What happens next?"

Morse straightens up and takes control of the situation. "You will go to bed. Here. I will leave, go to your parents and let them know you are safe. Then, after work, I will pick you up and bring you home." He is about to leave, but stops, turns and looks at her with an intensity that makes her want to melt.

"You are not now, nor ever have been used goods. You are everything to me. Everything." Morse bends, kisses her, and leaves before he takes it any further. Joan climbs into Endeavour's bed, wraps the blanket around her, and hears Morse's saying "You are everything to me. Everything" as she falls asleep.


	15. Chapter 15 - Telling the Thursdays

Morse pulls the Jag up to the curb outside the Thursday's home. It's 3:00 am, and there is a light on in the front room.

As he knocks on the front door the sound resonates down the quiet street. Fred Thursday opens the door prepared for bad news. "Morse. Has something happened?"

"No. Yes. Joan is safe. She is at my flat."

Thursday looks at Morse, one brow raised in a question.

"She arrived around half gone 1:00."

"And?"

"There is no "and". I am here, she is there."

Morse can hear Mrs. Thursday in the kitchen, through the air of unspoken questions.

"Christ, Morse, you look knackered. Come in. Win, could you do us a cuppa?"Simultaneously, Win enters the with the tea tray. She looks at Morse with gratitude and relief, and he responds with a nod of his head.

"You need a rest," she says, wondering how Morse could be so alone in the world. "Morning will be here soon enough. Come. You can stay in Sam's room. It's all done up."

"I couldn't, Mrs. Thursday. I'll return to the car."

"It's Win, and I'll bring blankets down to the living room, then."

"Best you just go along, Morse."

Morse finds his way to the sofa, lays down, and is asleep before Mrs. Thursday can lay a blanket over him.


	16. Chapter 16 - The Work Day

Morse and Thursday leave for the station at 8:00 am, C.S. Bright is waiting for them as they enter the nick. "The Cowley rape. Where are we?"

"Well, Sir," Thursday replies, "a description of the girl has gone out. Strange has uniforms canvassing with a picture, but we don't have a name, as of yet."

"Top brass are pushing. Say it is causing a scare and want results quickly."

"Of course, Sir."

"Anything else?" Silence. "No? Well, then, carry on." Bright says, as he returns to his office and answers the incessantly ringing phone.

"Bugger that job. Just two weeks as "acting C.S." and I was done with the "Yes, Sir. No, Sir. Three bags full, Sirs. Don't know how Bright does it. Everyone telling you what needs doing and that it should have been done yesterday."

Morse nods in agreement, knowing he wouldn't last an hour. Thursday continues, "Well, back to real copper work, then. Why not check in with Miss Hicks. Maybe she has remembered something else."

"Yes, sir" Morse says distractedly, not moving. He is deep in thought as his brain works on the case, an incomplete cypher.

"Off with you then." Morse jerks his head toward Thursday's spoken words, then exits the nick.

Thirty minutes later, Morse is at hospital, standing outside of Monica's door. He notices the number plate still askew, and slides it up to level. Then he notices a word scratched under the plate - "choose". He writes it down in his notebook followed by "message?"

He enters the room and there is Monica, asleep, and Strange looking at her with compassion and…

"Strange," Morse whispers, "how is she?"

"Better, but not. She is healing but she's not quiet "in." You know what I mean?"

Morse nods with a tug of sadness. "What do the doctors say?"

"Give it time. She's had a right go of it."

"Anything else she remembers?"

"No. Just stares off. Little to say. Sent the uniform home. Thought it might throw her in a tizzy. Knows me, doesn't she."

"I suppose. Keep me posted."

Back at the station Morse runs into Constable Trewlove. "Any news on the Cowley victim?"

"Identified by a missing persons report. Her name is Susan Love. 19. Oxford resident. Left home Saturday for the pictures. Never returned. D.S. Strange asked me to interview friends and family. I'm on my way now."

"I'm off, too." Morse says as he turns to leave. He is anxious to return to the flat, earlier than usual...

When he arrives home, Joan is sitting in his chair, her legs tucked under her. She looks rested and is wearing her skirt with his shirt and no shoes. Morse watches as she raises her head from writing - the crossword? Her smile reaches into his very being and it receives a smile in return. She stands, walks to him, takes his coat and hangs it on the coat stand, then she wraps her arms around his neck and says "You came home safe."

Morse feels the breath leave him, looks down at her face, soaking in Joan and the feeling of someone waiting for him, and says "Joan," to which she replies "Endeavour."


	17. Chapter 17 - Safely Home

Joan and Morse are embracing at the door to his flat.

Morse takes his hands and cups her face, looking at every nuance of her expression and the beautiful glow of her skin. With his heart on his sleeve, he draws her near, and kisses her, wondering how he ended up here, with her. He keeps his eyes open, certain if he closes them, she will disappear, and all he will have left is cold air and the faint scent of her hair.

Joan's hands find their way into his hair, and she remembers the calm it brought while in hospital. She allows herself to let go, and she feels their souls mingle, until they are one, feeling weightless and lightheaded. His arms support her back as she arches and he follows, deepening the kiss.

Morse can feel his heart cry out in fear that this cannot be, but, at the same time, it says "I love you. I love you. I love you." Knowing she is wearing his shirt, feeling her, breathing her in, he is in awe. They begin to move without realizing, and suddenly Joan's knees meet the chair, and she falls into it, Morse following. They both break into laughter, because the chair, with its broken springs, projects a loud "thud" as it breaks into pieces.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow." Joan groans, as Morse extricates himself from the tangle of broken chair debris and limbs. They gather themselves up, sit looking at each other, and break into free and easy laughter.

As the laughter fades Joan says "I've put together a bit to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Yes." Morse says. One word and they smile and blush simultaneously.

Joan brings the food to the floor, where they eat soup and crackers and share a beer. A comfortable quiet descends on the room, and Morse sighs, wondering when it will all end. Joan takes in his frown and says "I'm here. I'm not leaving."

Morse answers "Not leaving, but going to your parents house, where I will deposit you when we are finished…"

She leans in and whispers "Endeavour, we are alone." and he answers "Not exactly. It is you, me and my conscience." Joan smiles, shakes her head and says "What kind of copper are you?" and he replies "The kind that sees young ladies safely home."


	18. Chapter 18 - Goodnight

Morse and Joan arrive at the Thursdays just before 9:00 pm. The etherial glow of house lights interrupt the long stretches of shadows, making the evening seem enchanted. Morse walks Joan to the door, reaches for the doorknob, but hesitates when he feels her hand on his arm. He turns, and without a word they move as if by gravitational force into a kiss. There is a knock on the window, causing them to part.

"I must be going." Morse says to Joan as he sweeps a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her neck. "Goodnight, Endeavour." Joan says as she stands on her toes and kisses his cheek then turns the doorknob. "Goodnight, Joan." He replies.

As he walks to the car, stanzas from a Herrick poem enter his thoughts.

 **Bid me to live, and I will live**

 **Thy Protestant to be;**

 **Or bid me love, and I will give**

 **A loving heart to thee.**

 **A heart as soft, a heart as kind,**

 **A heart as sound and free**

 **As in the whole world thou canst find,**

 **That heart I'll give to thee.**


	19. Chapter 19 - Back at the Flat

Morse is back at his flat after dropping Joan home. On the floor are the pieces of the broken chair, and the echo of his laughter intertwined with hers. "Was she really here?" He thinks, then smiles realizing that maybe happiness isn't just for others.

He moves toward the record player, but, before he can choose an LP, he notices the crossword from the Cowley College crime scene. The last three answers which stumped him are filled in, and in the margin he sees a note from Joan.

 _"_ _Lucky you have me to answer your pop song questions." Joan_

"Yes."

He reads the answers, knowing that Joan was here, sitting on the chair prior to its demise, welcoming him at the door…"Home." Morse says to his empty four walls, missing her presence, the scent of her, the loveliness of her in the room.

Four down - "True Direction" - seven letters - Answer - Compass

Six across - "Walking a thin line" - nine letters - Answer - Tightrope

Five down - "Hard Rock Divided" - seven letters - Answer - Between

One across - "Clap heavy destination" - nine letters - Crossroads

Two down - Sledge Man/Woman - Love

Three down -"The Eve of" - eleven letters - Destruction

...compass, walking a thin line, between a rock and a hard place, crossroads, love, the eve of destruction, and…from Monica's hospital room door - choose.

Who are the victims again? Monica...

What was the name Constable Trewlove gave him? The Cowley College victim?

He grabs his coat from the stand by the door, reaches into the pocket and pulls out his notebook, flipping the pages aggressively. "Where is it!" He growls. Then he finds it. "Susan Love."

Susan? My first love, Susan?

The eve of destruction.

Joan.


	20. Chapter 20 - Crossword Complete

Morse is knocking on the Thursday's door, anxiety increasing the speed of his rapping knuckles. The crossword is in his pocket. When he touches it, a chain reaction of anger and fear makes him feel toxic.

"Bugger it all, Morse. What are you doing?"

"Joan. Where is she?"

"In bed, by God."

"Have you checked?" Morse says as he pushes his way into the house.

"What?" Thursday responds, truly not certain of what it going on.

"Is she in bed?"

"What is the about, Morse?"

"Crossword at the scene. Joan completed it. Perhaps a threat against her. Please, go. Check."

Thursday bounds up the stairs as Morse follows. He opens Joan's bedroom door, and there, in Joan's bed is a note. Only a note.

 _Choose._


	21. Chapter 21 - Those I have

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Fred Thursday yells, waking Win, and bringing Morse out of panic mode, and into detective mode. Only this time the stakes are too high.

"Look." Morse says, his mind in overdrive, searching in his pocket for the crossword.

"Look at what?" Fred says as Morse hands him the crossword from the crime scene.

"I don't understand, Morse. Where is Joan? God damn it, Morse, speak!"

"The clues. The answers. They refer to me. And those I… I have…" He bends his head, reaches both hands behind his head, weaving them into his hair, fingers intertwining.

Thursday looks at him, waiting for him to finish. Win, realizing that Joan is gone, begins frantically throwing the bedsheets back, looking under the bed and in the closet. "Where is she, Fred? Morse? Where is my Joan?"

Fred and Morse look at each other, silently acknowledging the situation. Win, with a sense of dread, sits on the edge of the bed, looks side to side, and with terror etched on her face, wonders where her beautiful daughter is now, and will she ever see her again. Not again. Tears spill from her eyes. She is numb with fear.

"Right." Thursday says, knowing they must work fast. "He has, let's see… Joan went to bed gone 11:00. It's now just past 1:00. Two hours. Let's get moving."

Morse is already at the phone, calling the station, D.S. Strange, Bright…

"D-Day."


	22. Chapter 22 - D-Day

Strange collects Morse and Thursday in a blue and white. They come to full stop a block away from the Doomsday Inn. Morse and Thursday are ready to act, but Strange says "Leave it to me. Both of you are a right mess. I can walk in there, ask questions, have a look around, without raising an eyebrow. It's my lodge."

"Your membership is useful at this moment, I suppose." Morse says, teeth clenched, trying to think logically.

Strange exits, walks toward the Doomsday Inn and pictures Nurse Hicks, readying himself to get the bastards who harmed her. He puts on his easygoing mask, and enters the Inn through the members only door. He is greeted by Alan Burridge the young owner of Burridges department store, with the club handshake. "What are you doing out so late?" Laughs Burridge. "Come in, come in. Can I stand you a pint?"

"Wouldn't say no to a pint. I need it. Had to escape the little woman. You know how demanding they can be," Strange lies.

"Who are you seeing, then" he says with a wink, the implication clear.

"A girl from the bank."

"That Maureen? She's a lovely piece of…"

"No, not her." Strange interrupts Burridge (he lies because Burridge is a right git), "but a lovely piece, nonetheless." Strange says with a chuckle and a false whisper, bile collecting in his throat. He despises Burridge.

"You're on your way up, then, Strange? They'll all be glad to see you. I'll just run up and let them know."

"No need. I'll bring the pint along."

"Hold on, there." Burridge falsely laughs "They're just finishing a top tier meeting. The publican can stand you a cheese and pickle while you wait."

"What's it about, this top tier meeting?"

"Just lodge business. Boring ledgers and accounts talk. You're missing nothing. Be back in a mo." Burridge calls over his shoulder as he takes the steps two at a time.

Strange calls in to the publican to make him a cheese and pickle, then creeps up the backstairs, trying to listen in.

"This is out of control!" Lord Mountbatten spits out.

"You asked him, remember?" accuses D.I. Jacobs from County.

"It was just to scare them. How could I have known he'd run, spiral out of control." Mountbatten defending himself, voice growing louder.

"Keep it down." Burridge whispers. "Strange is downstairs. That's what I came up to tell you. Everything is fine. He's none the wiser, a bit of a dunderhead you know."

"Jacobs, get your men on this, goddamn it. He has to be found. Stopped." Mountbatten says.

"Glad to clean up your mess." Jacobs replies, sarcasm dripping. "Listen, he won't kill her. Not yet, at least. He hasn't toyed with them enough. The game is just starting. We are safe, for now. But, God help us if they find out. We're dead men. Morse may be a do-gooder, but Thursday could cross the line."

"Goddamn it. Find the bastard. Now! This will NOT come out. We are all ruined if it does. Grease all the palms you need, just get it DONE!" Mountbatten shoves his chair back, and heads for the back door.

Strange realizes that Mountbatten is heading right for him, and, at the same time Harry, the publican, calls "Cheese and pickle is up." Thinking quickly, Strange ducks in the loo. As he returns to the room he chuckles and says, "Wouldn't go in there for a bit, if you know what I mean," dunderhead-ness in full gear.

Mountbatten walks out the front door, followed by Jacobs. "Blimey, They're in quite a state. Probably all those ledgers and accounts. Not for me. Not for me at all." Strange says, then adds "Where's my sandwich? Can't have too much in the tum, my mum used to say. Proud, she is of my tum."

Burridge laughs and says. "Unfortunately, on that note, I have to go." He starts walking to the door as Strange adds "I'll stay a bit. Finish me rations, before I head back to the little woman."

As soon as the door closes, Strange calls to Harry. "Damn. Left me wallet upstairs last night. Going to slip up to the hall and nick it back." Strange climbs slowly, so as not to raise suspicion. When he gets to the Grand Hall, everything is in its place except for a scrap of paper under the table. He pockets it, heads downstairs, leaving a big tip for Harry to buy a bit of silence, then heads out the door calling "Nite, Harry."

As soon as Strange is in the car, Thursday starts to drive. "Fill us in." He demands.

Strange tells the story and hands the scrap paper to Morse. Morse notices the the telltale grid, with white and black squares. He attempts to read it with his torch, but the uneven road and the dark make it impossible.

"Pull over!" He yells in frustration. "I can't do this while you are driving!"

"Hold on to your shirt, Morse. We're going to my house. Private and near."

"Go faster."


	23. Chapter 23 - Crossword Puzzle Scherzo

Morse rushes into the Thursday's home with the crossword in hand. He sits at the telephone table by the door, finds a pencil, putting his mind to the task.

Set by - Matthew 27:52

6 across - Sinatra's Joey - three letters

3 down - Flying safely organized - three letters

5 down - parsil accoutrement français - seven letters

1 down - flea swatting Bert- eight letters

7 across - Italian presto movement - ten letters

8 across - violin playing scherzo - five letters

4 down - softly in my arms - five letters

2 across- Asmus romantic poet - eight letters


	24. Chapter 24 - Solved?

Morse pauses to take in the answers to the crossword, heart is racing. Joan. So precious.

 _Sinatra's Joey -_ _Pal_

 _Flying safely organized -_ _AIS_

Morse thinks through the clues and then puts them together

 **"Pal + AIS = Palais"**

 _Parsil accoutrement français -_ _Garnier_ _\- Parsley is a Garnish…_

Morse pulls on the hair at the back of his neck and puts the words together…

 **Palais Garnier - The Parisian Opera House.**

 _Flea swatting Bert = Shoo-Bert = composer = Franz_ _Schubert_

 _Italian presto movement - A fast Italian dance -_ _tarantella_

 _Violin playing scherzo - Death is often pictured as a violinist…-_ _Death_

 _Softly in my arms -_ _Sleep_

 _Asmus romantic poet -_ _nsomedeplume - Matthias_ _Claudius_ _wrote under the name Asmus._

 _Franz Schubert + Tarantella + Death + Sleep + Matthias Claudius =_

 ** _Death and the Maiden_**

Morse stops breathing.

There is only one person who holds a grudge against him who also has the ability to create this puzzle.

Interrupting Morse's thought, Thursday asks "Well. Are you done? What does it mean?"

"Death and the Maiden."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Franz Schubert, the composer, wrote a string quartet based on the poem "Der Tod und das Mädchen" or Death and the Maiden. The maiden is being lured to her death by death himself."

Thursday's face is frozen in fear.

Strange says "The maiden is Miss Thursday?"

"Yes." Morse replies.

"Who is death, then?" asks Thursday.

"A man who hates you and me. The only person with the twisted, sick intelligence to compose this crossword. You could say he is Death himself." Morse pauses, he feels as if he will vomit. "Mason Gull."

"At the lodge I heard Mountbatten telling Jacobs to stop "him", that he had gotten out of control." Strange says.

"Those idiots, thinking they could work with Gull, that he would follow their rules. Such arrogance. Stupidity." Morse adds.

"Why did they set Gull on you and Thursday…" Strange questions.

"Because we wouldn't bend to their rules. Clubbable or nothing. Secret societies of grown men playing in the dress up box."

Thursday looks at Morse with a somber expression. "Is Joan still alive?"

"I believe so. It's the game Gull loves. He is taunting me, and, for that matter, you. He swore vengeance on us when we caught him at Lonsdale, on the rooftop." Morse continues, quoting the poem.

 _The Maiden says_ :

"Oh! leave me! Prithee, leave me! thou grisly man of bone!

For life is sweet, is pleasant.

Go! leave me now alone!

Go! leave me now alone!"

 _Death answers_ :

"Give me thy hand, oh! maiden fair to see,

For I'm a friend, hath ne'er distress'd thee.

Take courage now, and very soon

Within mine arms shalt softly rest thee!"

"The maiden knows to fear death, but his words are somehow enchanting. His real "self" is hidden by his personality, gentle words and helpfulness. That is Gull. He can be invisible."

"Where are we in the game?" Strange asks.

Well, if I consider the first movement of Death and the Maiden…the maiden is close to death, then, suddenly there is a spurt of life and hope in the music as it rushes and moves to major - more hopeful melody. But then, as the music continues, it returns to the minor key - darker sounding - and from there the music pulses to its death. Right now, I believe we are moving toward the spurt of life in his game, hooking us, keeping it interesting for him. We must move now to save her."

"Where will we find her? She could be anywhere…" Thursday says, tormented and lost.

"The puzzle tells us. The opera house Palais Granier, Paris."

"What is the bit about the tarantella? What is a tarantella."

"A tarantula."

"Right. Morse, go with Strange to the nick. Get the car and go to the armory. We leave here in 15 minutes."

As they drive erratically to the nick, Morse imagines Joan. Faster. We must go faster.

It's a rainy night in Paris. The smartly dressed concert patrons are leaving the ornate opera house, the Palais Garnier. A tall man, balding, wearing a hat and a tan mack, walks among the crowd, whistling a melody in a major key. The concert featured string quartets by Schubert, with Death and the Maiden as the grand finale.

Deep under the catacombs below the Palais Garnier stage there is a small room which houses broken mannequins. On the floor among legs, arms, torsos and heads there lies a young woman.


	25. Chapter 25 - Joan

Joan Thursday's head is spinning. Opening her eyes, she is greeted by the dead eyes of a disembodied head. "Bloody hell!" She yells as her heart shifts into high gear. "A mannequin head? A bald mannequin head? Where the hell am I? Why is my head so groggy?" As she attempts to stand she feels lightheaded and has to sit down immediately. "Was I drugged?"

She forces her brain to work, and she begins to remember…

Under the light of the house with Morse. Being held by him, kissing him…"Did that really happen? Yes."

Coming home, Mum hugging me so hard the air left my lungs. She and Dad were so relieved to see me. "God, I missed them."

I remember saying goodnight. Getting into bed, closing my eyes and falling asleep. I dreamed…What was it? She blushes, as the images come into focus and she remembers being in his bed, sleeping. Then, he was there. Endeavour, laying next to her, up on one elbow, the other hand touching her hair. She threw her arms around him like a school girl. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, then they were kissing, limbs wrapped around each other, smiling, laughing. Morse laughing? Limbs?

Her eyes have adjusted to the dim light of the room and she looks upon a sea of limbs, ladies arms with bright red nail polish, men's torsos and feet with shoes still securely on. "What a strange room…Like a battlefield at the end of the war - a war waged by magazine models."

As her memory returns her blood pressure rises and she feels sick. A foul smell. There was a man, holding one of her hankies against her nose, she struggled, then everything went black. She feels like she is drowning, gasping for breath, trying to swim to the surface, but never getting closer to a light, far above her…She was at the edge of death. "My God, I almost died."

Anger bubbles up inside of her. "No one is going to ruin this. No one. I love him… the way he looks at me, that smile, one corner of his lips lifted slightly, head angled downward…His lips. The way we fit together." She allows a ripple of pleasure to shiver up her back and lets out a subtle moan. "No one, no one is going to take this aways from me."

She pushes her body through the plastic body parts, toward the door, which has a small window. Through the window is a very dim light, provided by an emergency exit sign. "I can get out of here. How hard can it be to escape this closet?" She rubs her eyes and forces her mind to clear away the fog. Looking out the window she sees a mishmash of things, a Tyrollean house facade, fake trees, a dining room table, costumes on a long bar with feathers, satin, sequins, and taffeta poking out this way and that.

"Am I in a theatre? Beneath the stage? A prop room?"

She looks around at the mannequin war debris, then glances upward. Suspended above her head is an enormous white spider's web. It seems to move, like laundry on the line with a gentle breeze moving it forward, back, up, down. A small hole begins to appear in the web and out pokes a hairy spindly leg, much like a picture of a tarantula she saw once in a National Geographic.

"Blimey! I must act now."

She moves slowly, calmly. No need to announce her presence to the hairy monsters. She grabs a particularly sturdy leg. "It's just a regular window. How hard can it be to break it? I won't have too many chances to strike the window." She breathes in and holds it. A spider has dropped through the hole which has grown larger. Another follows. Then another…

"Here goes nothing." She braces her feet, pulls her arms backward, preparing to slam the leg into the window. Spiders are now dropping in clumps through a hole in the web. Something brushes her leg. "Calm, breathe." She hits the window with the plastic leg and the glass shatters. "Thank God." The spiders are now dropping, on her head, the floor, and climbing up her legs. She looks out the broken window and sees the flash of a torch. Staying as still as she can she yells "Over here. Get me out of here."

Around the corner comes a tall figure wearing a hat, a mack…


	26. Chapter 26 - Saved

"Young lady, what are you doing in there?"

Joan holds as still as an ice sculpture. "Please. Open the door. Tarantulas." Joan's voice comes out tightly, hissing between clenched teeth. Her face is framed by shards of glass left behind after breaking the window.

"Dear God." The man rushes over, pulls a ring out of his coat pocket which is overflowing with keys of every shape. He tries one, two, and finally on the third try, the door opens."Christ, tarantulas!" He rummages for something to brush the crawling beasts to the floor. His hand makes contact with a carved wood cane, which he picks up, and brushes off the offending beasts.

"Hold very still."

"Why?"

"There is one in your hair." Every cell in Joan's body freezes as she waits for the spider to crawl out of her hair. When it reaches her back the man runs the can down her back, sending the tarantula across the floor.

"Done. Come this way." Joan follows the man as he leads her through hallways barely lit, up stairs, and then onto the stage. This is the first time Joan has ever stood on a stage, and she looks up to see a gilded auditorium with crushed red velvet seats and opera boxes fit for a queen. Suddenly a spotlight blinds Joan and she squints, trying to see. "What's happening?"

The man walks into the beam of light, smiles with evil dancing behind his eyes, and says "Hello Miss Thursday. I am an old friend of your father's, and of course, of Morse. Relax, the show doesn't begin until they arrive."


	27. Chapter 27 - Le Palais Granier

Morse, Strange and Thursday are outside the Palais Garnier opera house after a harrowing crossing by ferry from Dover to Dunkirk then driving to Paris. It is exactly 24 hours since Joan was taken.

Morse walks to a callbox outside of the opera house and rings the local police. Reinforcements, he is told, are on the way.

Strange and Thursday walk the exterior of the Palais taking in the exits and street level windows,.

Morse's head in bowed, and he is pulling on his hair. Thursday and Strange join him as a man approaches.

"Bonsoir messieurs. Comment allez-vous?" He asks sincerely.

"Terrifié" replied Morse.

"Oui bien sûr. Je m'appelle Henri Ange." Then, switching to English says "I manage the Palais. How do you wish to proceed?"

Morse lifts his head. "I will enter, alone. He wants me and he can have me."

Thursday gives a gentle shake of his head. "Morse, full stop. Think. Joan needs you using that brain of yours, not a sacrificial lamb."

Morse nods once in agreement.

Meanwhile, inside the Palais, Joan is wrapped in a straight jacket, lying on the floor of the stage next to a glass chamber filled with water. Above the chamber is a pulley system, to which Joan's rope is attached. Next to the pulley, also suspended from above, is a rotary blade affixed to a pendulum which is moving incrementally closer to the rope.

"Are you comfortable, Miss Thursday?" Mason Gull says with the voice of a magician creating an illusion.

"Yes." Joan answers calmly. She will not let this madman know she is shaking like a leaf.

Henri Ange enters the theatre, turns on the house lights and walks toward the stage. With each step forward, the rope winds through the pulley lifting Joan toward the chamber.

Ange stops. "Pardon et moi, monsieur. Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

Gull responds "Je mène une expérience"

"An experiment?" Ange says, switching to English once he hears the man's accent.

"Yes. It is an extemporary play and occurs in real time. We are waiting for the other actors to arrive."

"What then?"

"Ah, now that is the question, isn't it?"

"Curieuse."

"What is curious?" Gull asks.

"Pourquois."

"Why? Le jeu est en cours." Gull responds.

"The game is afoot? This is a game of life or death, is it not?" Ange asks.

"Oui."

"Et vous?"

"Moi? Well, I'm the greater intellect, and I am smoke and mirrors. I will survive as I always do. He shall perish."

"Bonne chance." Ange backs away and exits the theatre. With each step Joan descends until she is laying on her back, heart racing.

Morse, standing in the Mezzanine, front row says "Hello Mason."

From the opera box Thursdays says "Hello Mason."

From backstage Strange says "Hello matey."

Gull looks around at the voices coming at him from three different directions. "Bonsoir mes amis." he goads. Joan begins her ascent once again, ascending six inches with each turn of the pulley. First her legs lift off the ground, then her lower back, then her head. She growls with anger as the speed of the pulley gains speed. The rotary blade continues to spin moving closer and closer to the rope.

"Au Revoir." Gull says as he spins in a circle coat floating upward, disappearing with an explosion and billowing smoke.

When the smoke clears, Gull is gone and Joan is hanging over the glass chamber, and the rotary blade is moving centimeter by centimeter toward the rope.

"Joan!" Morse yells as he runs down the stairs of the mezzanine two at a time, Strange reaches the chamber first, followed by Thursday. They are winded and terrified.

Joan's face is crimson red from being held upside down. Her eyes roll back in her head, and, just before she passes out she tries to speak "Morse I..."


	28. Chapter 28 - Suspended in Time

"We have to get her down from there! Get a ladder! Get something!" Morse screams, looking frantically around, pounding his fists on the water filled chamber.

"Behind you, Matey." Strange calls out as he carries a ladder to the chamber. There is commotion everywhere. The Parisian police have arrived and are running down the aisles of the auditorium. Strange sets up the ladder, but it is too short. Above them Joan is hanging upside down from her ankles, passed out. Her face is turning from red to purple, and the blade of the rotary saw is halfway through the rope.

Morse climbs to the top of the ladder but cannot reach the top. He is screaming, grasping at the glass, and, for the first time in his life, praying, not certain of the deity to whom he is begging.

"No, no, no, no. Don't take her. I can't… She is my…"

He releases a tortured scream, then slumps against the glass, helpless and devastated. Through all of the commotion he hears Thursday call to him. "Morse! Morse! Endeavour!"

Morse looks down at his D.I. gripped with terror. Thursday looks up at him with empathy in his eyes. "Morse. Let the fire brigade through. They can manage from here."

"I love her." Morse says with desperation in his voice.

"I know."

Morse, hears a fireman climbing the ladder. "Je m'appelle Valentin. Bien. Vous écoutez. Grimper sur mes épaules. Je vais t'élever."

"I'm listening. You can lift me up? Tu peux me soulever?"

"Oui."

"Merci beaucoup."

Morse places his right knee on the fireman's shoulder, grits his teeth, and follows with his left knee. He leans against the glass as Valentin lifts him, one step at a time, one foot at a time. Behind Valentin are two other firemen, each supporting the man on the next step up. He reaches the edge of the chamber and hoists himself into the water. At that very moment Joan's rope gives way, and into the water she plummets. Morse dives and turns her so her head rises above the water line. Joan is awake, shocked into consciousness by the freezing cold water and her fight or flight instinct kicks in. She tries to tread water, but her feet are still bound. Morse dives into the water again, struggles with the ropes around her ankles, but the knot is too tight.

At that moment, Valentin jumps into the water yelling "Monsieur, Tenez-la au-dessus de l'eau!" Morse responds by wrapping his arms around Joan's torso and treads water keeping them both above the waterline. Valentin dives, pulls a knife from his boot, and attempts to cut the rope around Joan's ankles. He returns to the surface, then dives two more times to complete the job. Morse is still treading water but exhaustion is beginning to impede his progress, but Valentin releases the buckles of the straight jacket and lifts Joan's arms over Morse's shoulders and around his neck.

The firemen have, in the meantime, found and rolled out scaffolding used for building sets. "Valentin!" Shout two firemen from the platform. "Soulevez-la hors de l'eau!" Valentin and Morse, treading water frantically, lift Joan until the firemen can pull her out. Morse and Valentin follow. Joan is passed out on the scaffolding, and Morse kneels in the tight space pulling her onto his lap. He closes his eyes, willing her to live, offering the Gods anything they want to spare her life. Her breathing is shallow, her heartbeat faint, her face opaque, lifeless. He rocks her back and forth gently, whispering in her ear, over and over again "I love you."


	29. Chapter 29 - Smoke Gets in your Eyes

When Gull disappeared in a cloud of smoke it was with the help of a trap door and a ramp. The problem is, he didn't expect smoke to get in his eyes. He fell over the side of the ramp and sprained his ankle.

"God damn it." He says as the smoke clears. Standing before him are two police officers and Henri Ange, who says "Bienvenue, monsieur."

"Enchanté" Replies Gull.

"Tu es invité à notre prison parisienne"

"Prison? Mais, non, monsieur. J'ai un autre rendez-vous."

"Oui." Ange says, "A rendez-vous with fate. Vous Sort."

"My fate? My fate is what I say it is."

"Peut être. Perhaps."

Gull pulls out a blade, grabs the policeman to his left, and holds it to his throat.

"Mon sort. My fate."


	30. Chapter 30 - In the Atmosphere

Joan is on a stretcher, being rolled to the ambulance with Morse walking along side. Thursday and Strange walk alongside, watching Morse.

"I will go with her in the ambulance." Morse states, definitely.

"Son," Thursday says,"that is a loyal and caring gesture, but, Joan needs you to find and stop Gull. If he is allowed to get away, she will continue to be in danger. Strange will go with her - she couldn't have a better copper in her corner. Bright and DeBryn are at hospital now, waiting to keep her safe. You and I need to see this through, for everyone's sake."

The stretcher has reached the ambulance, and it's time for Morse to decide. He looks at Strange who offers Morse a handshake. "You can trust me, Matey. She's in right good hands. Off you go. Get the git."

"Do not leave the room."

"You have me word."

Morse bends, kisses Joan's cheek, and whispers:

"How many times do I love thee, dear?

Tell me how many thoughts there be

In the atmosphere

Of a new-fall'n year,

Whose white and sable hours appear

The latest flake of Eternity:

So many times do I love thee, dear.

Joan, Strange and the ambulance roll away.

"Right, then. Let's get the bastard. He owes me a pipe, and I owe him my knuckles on his face."


	31. Chapter 31 - Polite Conversation

There is commotion at the loading dock behind the Palais Garnier punctuated by clanging metal, mumbled angry words, and scattered footsteps. Morse and Thursday move toward the rear of the building hugging the wall. Thursday points to a truck parked to the left of the dock and Morse circles around behind it. Gull and a Parisian police officer back toward a parked car. Thursday clears his throat and says "Well, Mr. Gull. Fancy seeing you. If I'd known you'd be here I would have brought my gun. I'm always forgetting things."

"Mr. Thursday, we meet again. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to pass. I'm in a dreadful hurry."

"Yes, I see. Wouldn't want to hold you up, but you own me something."

"What could that be? My recollection is that you ruined the end of my operatic masterpiece. Your death being the penultimate scene."

"What was the final scene, then?" Thursday inquires.

"Morse viewing your fall to death, arrested and sent to prison for your murder. That was quite a disappointment, although I was able to complete the opera with his arrest at Blendview."

"Always wondered if it was you or the boys from D-Day that arranged it."

"Come, come, Mr. Thursday. You know they are incapable of such planning. They needed me. Mountbatten offered me furloughs in exchange for doing some "work" for the club. I so enjoyed the work. Quite brilliant, if I do say so myself. Morse watches as you are shot, then arrested for the death of the C.S. Heard and is sent jail by invitation of her majesty. Shame Morse isn't here, I expected him to be here full of grief and righteousness. Did he go with your daughter's dead body? Won't do any good, as she is dead, but, some people are sentimental like that."

"You're right, he's with my Joan."

"Excuse me if I am being rude, but why aren't you devastated?"

"I have some unfinished business with you. You broke my favorite pipe that day in Oxford, on the roof. You'll need to replace it, and I figured this was my only chance. Oh, and of course, payment for my Joan."

"You will have to live with disappointment, then. Au Revoir."

"AHHHHHHHH. You son of a bitch." Gull's left arm is thrown back by a bullet shot by Morse through his left bicep. Gull, still holding the policeman, makes a move to slice the policeman's neck, but Thursday is quicker, pulling out his gun, and putting a bullet between his eyes.

Morse is silent, frozen.

Thursday attends to the Parisian copper, who is unharmed but in shock and helps him up. He is taken away by ambulance, leaving Thursday and Morse looking down at Gull's lifeless body.

"It is ended, then." Thursday says. Henri Ange walks out onto the dock. Morse gives him a nod of his head, knowing that Ange's plan to split the police between the stage and catacombs saved many lives. "I am in your debt, Monsieur Ange."

"Mais, non, monsieur. Un tel mal dans mon joli théâtre. C'est fine."

Thursday looks at Morse who translates "He expressed his sadness for the presence of such evil in his lovely theatre."

Morse looks at Ange and replies "Merci beaucoup. Ou vous pensée rapide et plan brillant. Tu as sauvé mon amour et sa fille. Nous sommes dans votre dette."

Ange replies "Brilliant plan? Non. It was what needed doing. My theatre is for drama not killing. A beautiful woman, someone's daughter, someone's love needed me." He pauses, "You owe me nothing. When you are next in Paris, you will have tickets to the opera as my guests. Now, Au Revior."

"Merci Beaucoup, Monsieur Ange." Thursday nods in agreement, and they are off to hospital, leaving Gull laying dead and alone in the back alley.


	32. Chapter 32 - It Alters Not

Thursday and Morse are standing by Joan's hospital bed. Win is asleep in a chair and Sargent Strange is sitting just outside of the room. All watch for some kind of movement from Joan, but she is still.

The door opens and in walks DeBryn. "Hello Morse, Thursday. It is, as they say, good news and bad. Which do you wish to hear first?"

"Bad." says Morse with a flat tone.

"She is in a coma."

"And the good?" asks Thursday with an equally flat tone.

"She will improve. They don't know when, but the chances of her coming out of it are good."

"How good?"

"Time will answer that question. The medical research shows that people in a coma can hear. It will be important for you to be with her, speak to her. Make her feel she is not alone."

"Right." Thursday says to no one in particular. He takes Joan's hand in his, bends and says "Come back to us Joan." There are unshed tears, hovering in his eyes, and fear in the wrinkles of his forehead.

Winifred wakes to see her husband and walks over to him. He opens his arms to her, and she leans in wearily, sobbing softly into his mack. "Okay, Winifred. It is okay. It is over, and she is safe."

Winifred releases a breath, steps back, takes Fred's hand, and leads him out of the room. DeBryn, follows suit, realizing Morse needs a moment.

Morse caresses Joan's cheek with the back of his fingers, and tears escape from his eyes. He whispers:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

"Come back to me, Joan. I need you. I love you…it alters not. Come back to me…"


	33. Chapter 33 - Tristesse

"Where am I?" Joan wonders aloud. All around her are grey and white clouds, and she passes through them like light through a window, except they're never clear. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?" She tries to call out, but her body and mind cannot find the energy. Bloody hell, what is happening? Have I been kidnapped again? This is ridiculous. Am I a heroine in a romance novel for God's sake?" Joan stops and listens for any clue. "Why does it feel like Morse is next to me? Am I imagining him here? I could swear that is his voice, but it sounds so gargled. All of a sudden his voice clears like reception on a radio.

"Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

"Morse, I'm right here. You are quoting Shakespeare? Is it for me?"

"Joan, come back to me."

"You are talking about me and love? Do you love me? You sound close, but I can't see you, or anything else for that matter."

She feels the clouds shift, and then, certainly, Morse is there. She can't see or feel him, but she knows he's closer, and everything seems peaceful and still.

"Joan. I love you." Morse needs to be closer to her, so he climbs onto the bed, lays on his side, wraps an arm around her waist, and tucks his head next to hers. He falls asleep humming the melody of Chopin's Etude in E, No Other Love - Tristesse. This comes close to how he feels.


	34. Chapter 34 - I've Looked At Clouds

Fred and Win Thursday are sitting in the waiting room. "Perhaps she cares for him. Maybe he'll help her come back to us. The way he looks at her. He is a good man, I think."

"Yes," Fred replies. "Yes, indeed." They hold hands, look at each other, then embrace, holding on to each other and hope.

Back in the hospital room, Morse is sleeping and Joan is thinking "I need to remember what happened. I think I'm in hospital, again. There is something wrong with me. Gull, pulling me above a chamber full of water, passing out. Morse, can you hear me? I'm not letting that bastard Gull win. I'm coming back to you, Endeavour. Stay with me. The clouds are clearing."


	35. Chapter 35 - Monica

Sargent Strange has been on the ferry from Dunkirk to Dover, took a bus, then called the nick for a ride. Instead of going to his flat, he finds himself at hospital, walking toward Nurse Hicks' room. He knocks, and is invited in by a male voice. He notices Monica sitting up, sipping water, and talking with a doctor.

"Hallo there, Miss Hicks. Just stopping by to have a check-in with you. Should I bugger off?"

Monica smiles when she sees Sargent Strange's face. She missed hiim. "Hello, Sargent, this is Dr. Fitzwilliam, he is helping me..."

The doctor completes the sentence "I'm helping Nurse Hicks recover from the trauma. She was separated from herself for a short time, her brain unable to make sense of the mess. She is back, and improving everyday."

"Well that's a fine thing, it is. A corker like you needs to be right as rain. Can see it in your face. Sunshine." Monica lowers her head and smiles.

On the way out of the room the doctor says "Well, enjoy your visitor, Nurse Hicks. It's good for the mind and the soul to see old friends.

Strange and Hicks look at each other, not certain of what to say. Monica breaks the silence, "I am glad you're here. Where were you?"

"Paris. Morse needed me help. Quite a mix-up. Same git who harmed you had Miss Thursday. Saved her, though, didn't we. He pauses, then says "Missed seeing you, glad you're better."

Monica's face is struck with fear, so Strange moves toward her and says "He's dead. No need for worry anymore."

Monica's body relaxes just a bit, and Strange reaches for her hand. Monica opens her hand, palm facing up, and strange lays his hand on hers, closing his fingers. Then he places his other hand on top, squeezes gently, and Monica feels the warmth and strength through her entire body. She releases a gentle sigh, and closes her eyes.


	36. Chapter 36 - Cactus Tree

A month has passed, and Joan has been moved from the Parisian hospital to Oxford. She is still in a coma.

It is past midnight when Morse arrives at the hospital. As he walks to Joan's room, he sees Sargent Strange and Nurse Hicks leaning toward each other. He diverts his eyes, bends his head, and smiles to himself. "Good for them." He enters Joan's room, and in his arms is a bunch of daisies. The florist wanted to sell him a gaudy arrangement but daisies seemed more beautiful in their simplicity. He sees a empty vase, fills it with water, and slips the daisies in, remembering the last stanza to the Wadsworth poem "To a Daisy"

 _When all my reveries are past,_

 _I call thee, and to that cleave fast,_

 _Sweet silent Creature._

 _That breath'st with me in sun and air,_

 _Do thou, as thou art wont, repair_

 _My heart_ …

Morse has brought his record player to the hospital, and the nurses are used to hearing music playing from Miss Thursday's room at all hours of the day and night. They imagine Morse as a hero wooing his maiden, standing vigil until his love awakes. The nurses stand outside the room. "Ah, to find a gent with daisies and blue eyes full of love." A nurse muses, and the other girls reply "Yes" in that way you feel when Bergman and Bogart kiss in Rick's American Cafe.

Morse chooses Puccini's La Boheme from the stack of LP's and plays "O Soave Fanciulla" because moonlight is shining through the window and onto Joan's face. All of the nurses on duty sigh, as Rudolfo begins his song of love:

O soave fanciulla, o dolce visa - O loveliest of maidens, O sweetest vision,

di mite circonfuso alba lunar - Bathed in the soft glow of a moonbeam;

in te, vivo ravviso il sogno/in you - I see a dream come to life

ch'io vorrei sempre sognar! - A dream I pray always to dream!

When the duet comes to its dramatic end, he flips through the LP's again. There is one in particular which Sam, Joan's brother, gave him. He remembers him saying "She'll need a bit more than the fat ladies singing." To which Morse had replied "Better than a drug induced hazy repetitive bit of tripe."

He thought he'd hate it, but this vocalist has a "bel canto" quality, a bit classical in nature. The poetry reminds him of Charlotte Bronte set to a Chopin nocturne. He spins the LP and the hauntingly beautiful voice of Joni Mitchell fills the room.

 _There's a man who's climbed a mountain_

 _And he's calling out her name_

 _And he hopes her heart can hear three thousand miles_

 _He calls again_

 _He can think her there beside him_

 _He can miss her just the same_

 _He has missed her in the forest_

 _While he showed her all the flowers_

 _And the branches sang the chorus_

 _As he climbed the scaley towers_

 _Of a forest tree_

 _While she was somewhere being free_

Now, all of the nurses have gathered outside Joan's door, lost in the love radiating from the room. A novice nurse is sent in to take a peek at the scene and report back. She enters and sees Morse sitting on the edge of Miss Thursday's bed holding her hand while the song Cactus Tree is playing. It is too lovely and private to gaze upon, so she slips out the door and tells the others it was too dark to see. For the rest of her life, she remembers this moment.


	37. Chapter 37 - Ultimatum

Morse is drinking the last sip of his morning tea, when the phone rings.

"Morse." He says into the receiver.

"Down to the nick, Matey. Letter came for you. From Mountbatten."

Ten minutes later, Morse walks into the nick, and Strange hands him the letter:

D.C. Morse,

You are invited to an evening of networking at the Doomsday Inn.

Your presence is expected.

We have accepted this invitation on your behalf.

 _8:00 pm - Cocktails_

 _9:00 pm - Meeting, Grand Hall_

 _Black Tie_

Your Future Fellow Mason,

Sir Alistair Mountbatten

"What is this?" Morse grunts. "Ridiculous. I'm not going."

"That's what I told Strange." Thursday interjects.

"It isn't an invitation. It's a summons. You have to go." Strange replies.

"Like hell I do. Miss Thursday is in a coma because of those imbeciles. I want nothing to do with their sophomoric games and stunted intellect."

"This is our chance to take them down, Matey. I've heard them talking in the hall when they thought I was in the pub. They mean to kill you but first they want to torture you by coercing you to join the lodge. I have been doing surveillance, and have a plan."

Morse looks at Thursday and asks "Sir, what do you think?"

"Time to make them pay. Bring them all down, and sign off on this for good."

As the grandfather clock chimes 6:00pm Morse and Strange in evening attire enter the D-Day Inn. Alan Burridger walks toward them with an exaggerated smile and aggressive handshake. "Welcome, welcome, boys."

Strange leans into Alan, secretly sharing a club handshake, and says "Hello there, Matey! Nothing to keep you busy between the sheets tonight?

"No, not tonight, Jim, not tonight. Lodge business pending. We are offering to Morse."

"Was I to be included in this decision?" Morse asks, indignantly.

"No decision to be made, Morse. It's done and dusted." Burridger responds.

"Well, what's the hold up? Let's begin this charade."

Burridger looks at Morse. "What, no drink? Not even a single malt?"

"No."

"Well, to the Grand Hall, then. This way, Morse." Morse and Strange Begin to follow but Burridger turns and says "Stand down, Strange. Just for the Top Tier, you know."

"Morse is my matey. I go where he goes."

"Sure, sure, but not at this moment. Give it a half hour, and you'll be up to congratulate."

"You alright with that, Morse?"

"Sure, why not."

Morse and Burridger ascend the stairs and enter the Grand Hall. Seated around the table are Mountbatten, D.I Jacobs from County, and four businessmen Morse does not recognize. Mountbatten calls the meeting to order.

"We are gathered here this evening to indoctrinate D.C. Morse into the lodge. All in favor, designate with an "aye"."

"Wait just a moment. I do not accept. This is lunacy enacted by megalomaniacal boy-men, and I am leaving. Goodnight." Morse stands to leave, but Burridger holds a pistol to his head and says "Have a seat, honored guest. This evening has only just begun."

"What do you want from me?"

Mountbatten stands, walks around the table, takes the pistol from Burridger, holds it closer to Morse's head and says "Your loyalty, or your death. It is your choice."

"Why would you want my loyalty?"

"You know too much, but as a lodge member you cannot divulge. It has been decided to give you one last chance. Choose it now."

"What is it you think I know? Let's hear it."

"Don't play the ignorant with us. You know we released Gull to torture and kill any women close to you. The closer they were, the more devastating their injuries. Your Susan was not available, so we had to improvise. We made certain that Susan Love was tortured before she died. We were saddened to see that the Thursday chit was not completely eliminated. Shame it is just a coma and not death, although that will be tidied up in just a few minutes."

"Nooo! You bastards." Morse jumps out of his chair, and goes for Mountbatten's throat, causing him to drop the gun. Burridger picks it up, ready to aim and shoot, but Strange opens the door, hitting him, and the gun goes flying across the room. Burridger cries out "Strange, matey, stop Morse. He's lost his mind. Shoot him, now!" Strange looks at Burridger, smiles and says "You're no matey of mine, you bloody bastard." He hits Burridger with an upper cut to the jaw, and lower-cut to the kidneys making him cry out with pain and curl up in the fetal position. Policemen flood the room, and Thursday fires a shot into the ceiling, getting everyone's attention.

"Good work Sargent Strange. We got it all on tape. We'll book it into evidence at City, not County, as Jacobs here is a turncoat. It will join the tapes made over the last three days by Sargent Strange. Didn't know we had a recorder under the table, did you now?" Strange retrieves the tape recorder, arrests the lot of them, then frog walks them down the stairs and into the street.

"Sir, is Joan safe?" Morse whispers anxiously.

"Yes. We needed someone we could trust to watch over her, so D.S. Jakes flew in from the States. While watching over Joan he noticed a nurse who was about to give an unauthorized injection. He arrested the nurse and moved Joan to another ward."

"Jakes?"

"Yes. He came on my request. Said how grateful he was for how you broke open the abuse cases at the Blenheim Vale School for Boys. Said he lived with that horror his entire life. You were there for him, spent time in jail, even. Wanted to repay you for breaking the men who perpetrated the abuse, freeing him and the other boys from their silent memories."

Morse looks at Thursday, nods his acceptance of the gesture as they exit the Inn.

The Masons are handcuffed and loaded into squad cars. Thursday shares one last detail "The charter for your lodge has been revoked, and the Masons have disavowed any connection with you and your corruption. They offered Strange a leadership position for uncovering the deciept, but he declined. He told them that once you're a copper, you're always a copper."

Back at the nick, Bright, Morse, Strange, and Thursday listen to the tapes. It is revealed that Alan Burridger was the perpetrator of the rapes, not Gull. It is soon discovered that he had raped female employees at his department store.

Thursday and Morse walk to Burridger's cell to charge him with these knew cases. They open the cell door and discover Burridger dangling from his shoe laces tied to the iron bars of the window.


	38. Chapter 38 - Goodbye, Hello

Morse meets Peter Jakes at the train station heading to Heathrow Airport and then on to Indiana.

"Jakes!" Morse calls out.

"Morse. Glad to see you before kipping off to the States. It's corn season and they are waiting for my expert opinion."

Morse smiles and nods. "How are your wife and child?"

"Best mistake I ever made. We named our daughter Hope. She's a sweet little pea. Didn't know how happy I could be. Farming is safe and boring, but I only fight with the chickens to get into the coop. Not one fight with a criminal. Imagine that, huh?"

"Hmm. Jakes, thanks for guarding Miss Thursday hospital."

"No need to say thanks. Besides, you brought the bastards from Blenheim Vale down. The boys, all of us, we were able to move on. Freedom from the silence. You gave us that and did time for your troubles."

The train whistles interrupts their discussion.

"Morse, if you've found someone in Joan…Don't wait. Grab your happiness."

The conductor calls "All aboard for Heathrow Express!"

Jakes and Morse shake hands. "Morse. Stop thinking and just go." At that Jakes hops on the train, closing the second class door behind him.

The train whistle blows again and it shakes free the memory of their first meeting. He and Joan Sam were in the dining room at the Thursday's home. Joan asked him "What do they call you then?" She was so confident, like a detective inspector grilling a con. Her hair was loose and long, framing her face and her stance demanded attention. He replied "Morse." And she said "What kind of name is that?" She was indominatable and beautiful. Did he know then what he knows now?

Morse starts walking to the carpark, then breaks into a jog. He has to get back to the hospital. He jumps into the Jag and drives, all the while hoping Joan is breaking out of the coma.

He runs up the stairs to Joan's room, but the nurse stops him. "Detective Constable Morse! Wait - I have to tell you. Her condition has changed. Wait!" Morse rushes around the nurse and pushes the door open, terrified that he has lost her.

Joan is sitting upright in the bed, smiles and says "Where have you been?"

"To hell and back."

"I seem to have taken the same path."

"You're awake."

"Yes."

"Can I sit next to you? Are you well enough?"

"Yes."

Morse stands looking at Joan, afraid that it is an illusion.

"Morse. Come here. What are you waiting for?"

"That."

"Well, out with it. What are you waiting for?"

Morse walks toward her saying "You. The indomnitable, beautiful, direct, alive..."

He sits On the bed, weaves his fingers into her hair and quotes Yeats:

"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

His lips descend on Joan's, and she moans in response. Frustrated with the distance between them, Morse pulls himself onto the bed and, at the same time, reaches behind her to loosen her robe, but he can't find the ends. She bursts into laughter reaches for his shirt, unbuttoning it. Morse leans in and runs his lips along her neck, catching her earlobe between his teeth. She turns her face to his and kisses him reveling in the moment, nothing holding them back, life back to relative normalcy. As he pulls her lower back toward him, they hear the sound of the door opening...

Morse jumps off the bed and attempts to adjust his shirt. The young nurse adverts her eyes, and says "I don't seem to be needed here, but thought you might like to know that Mr. and Mrs. Thursdays have arrived. They are speaking with the doctor. I'll go and let them know you are awake, but not quite ready to receive visitors..." The nurse departs, blushing profusely. Morse, about to exit, turns and looks at Joan who giggles, making Morse break into quiet, suppressed laughter. He looks back at her and sees the joy etched on her face. "I love you," he says, sneaking into the hallway, not wanting to be seen. As the door closes, Joan lifts her hands to her face, blushes, smiles, and gives an inaudible squeal of delight.


	39. Chapter 39 - Family

Winifred Thursday enters Joan's hospital room slowly, not quite ready to believe her daughter is awake.

"Hello, Mum."

Win's face is a window to her soul, hoping beyond hope that her daughter is truly safe and well. She walks to the hospital bed, reaches for Joan and holds her as if she could keep her safe forever in her embrace. "Mum, I can't breathe."

Fred walks in and wraps his arms around Joan and Win silently giving thanks for Joan's recovery. Then, unused to long hugs, stands, looks around the room and says "Where's Morse? Thought he'd be bedside."

Joan adverts her eyes, "He just went to stretch his legs. He'll be back soon."

They sit in peaceful silence. It is a particularly clear and sunny day, with blue sky and sun visible through the windows.

"Will you come home, Joan?" Win asks with a touch of uneasiness in her voice, not certain if she should ask, or if Joan will say no.

"Mum, I just woke up. Give us a second to catch up."

Fred interjects, "You always have a place with us. Your choice, in your own good time."

Win, wishing the matter solved now, holds her peace and lifts the edges of her lips into something resembling an agreeable smile.

The silence is broken by a knock on the door which is answered by all three occupants. "Come in."

Morse opens the door three-quarters of the way and looks upon the reunited family scene. "Perhaps I should return later, give you some family time. I'll just…" Fred interrupts "Yes, family time. Come in." Morse hears the word "family," and freezes. He is plummeted back to his mother's funeral, twelve years old, and so lost and alone. Even at twelve he knew his mother was his only family.

Win sees his distress and places a hand on his arm, looking into his eyes with kindness and understanding. Morse turns away, overwhelmed and uncertain how to adjust to so much attention. Win opens her arms to Morse, and says "Come here, love." Morse takes a step toward her, and she reaches for him closing the distance, pulling him into her embrace.


	40. Chapter 40 - In My Life

Three days later Joan is ready to be released from hospital. Winifred is fussing about, checking and rechecking Joan's eyes to make certain she is well.

"Mum, I'm fine. The nurse said the paperwork will be ready in a tick. Why don't you sit with Dad in the carpark."

"I don't mind waiting with you, walk down with you. You might be unsteady."

"That is what the nurse is for, Mum."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am. Go. I'll be down."

Winifred walks out the door, looking back one more time before leaving.

Joan looks about the room, glad to get out of the hospital and back to real life. Whatever that will be. She opens the door to find Morse standing in the hall, leaning against the wall, legs crossed, waiting for her.

"Hello there."

"Hello." Morse looks at Joan and smiles. "Ready?"

"Never more."

She goes the the nurses station and signs the release form, then turns and bumps into Morse, who was looking over her shoulder. She leans into him for a second, just because she can. His eyes look slightly down and his lips fall into that half smile that makes her her body shiver.

They walk in silent contentment to the elevator, and Morse pushes the button to close the doors. No one else is in the compartment, so he holds her face lovingly in his hands, looking into her eyes, and kisses her until she feels lightheaded. When the doors open they walk out into the morning air, blue sky and sun greeting them, but they are on the roof.

"Why are we here?" She asks and he answers by pulling her into his arms, and backing her into the wall. He delves into her, his body flush against hers.

"Oh, this is why."

She runs her hands up his back to his neck. Morse, lost and looking for more connection, lifts her leg and hitches it on his hip. "Bloody hell I want you." he whispers in her ear and she sighs "Yes." He leans into her, and they both move in frustration toward more connection.

The elevator dings and they fly apart.

"Ugh, bloody hell" Joan says at the same time Morse growls and pulls away. He takes her hand, guides her to a small shed where they hide, Morse shielding Joan.

Two men walk out of the elevator to the shed, Morse and Joan hold their breath, trying to conceal their presence. The men chat as they unlock the door, unaware of Joan and Morse on the other side, and talking about football. Morse and Joan try not to give away their presence, but the absurdity of the moment nearly makes them laugh. It takes the men just a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime by the time the men walk back to the elevator and leave.

Morse and Joan release a nervous laugh, then Morse bends and picks up a bunch of daisies. "Where did these come from?" Joan asks. "I brought them." He hands them to her and says

 _"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways._

 _I love thee to the depth and breadth and height_

 _My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight_

 _For the ends of being and ideal grace._

 _I love thee to the level of every day's_

 _Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light._

 _I love thee freely, as men strive for right._

 _I love thee purely, as they turn from praise._

 _I love thee with the passion put to use_

 _In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith._

 _I love thee with a love I seemed to lose_

 _With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,_

 _Smiles, tears, of all my life;"_

"Joan, marry me."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

He lifts her off the ground and whispers "I love you".

"I love you, Endeavour. All those times you spoke the words of Browning and Yeats. For me. It makes me mad for you. You know, I don't think anyone really knows you, but I do." Joan hold his hands and says,

 _"There are places I'll remember, all my life, though some have changed._

 _Some forever not for better. Some are gone, and some remain._

 _All these places have their moments, with lovers and friends, I still can recall._

 _Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I love you more."_

 **The End**

Watch for Season Six, coming soon…


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